As Sick And Rotten As The Sea
by feathered moon wings
Summary: Chloe can feel the rolling waves of the sea, angry beneath her pale skin. The water calls to her, a constant echoing in the back of her head that makes her itch and scratch at her arms. She does not belong with those she claims as friends. Despite the healthy pink hue of her skin, she's as sick and as rotten as Paradise's rift.


Challenge:

The stench of the sea and the absence of green are the death of all things that are seen and unseen.

-_Hozier_

The sea was restless. Chloe could feel it beneath her skin, the vast, rolling masses of liquid, just a few meters away.

Far away, the rumbling of thunder could be heard as the waves washed angrily over the sand. She stood a few ways away so none of the water would catch her, but still the sea called to her soul and it was restless.

Chloe scratched at her arm in the hopes that the itch of waves under her skin would quiet, but it wasn't going away and it wouldn't anytime soon, not unless she returned home.

The sky, an endless expanse of gray, darkened the island though it was still day. She wondered what her breathing friends were doing today- most probably they were hiding away inside the flimsy but safe walls of the Café, laughing away at silly childish jokes.

She looked up from her sand surrounded shoes as a stronger wave crashed against a rocky formation; droplets flying into the air and dispersing amongst the strong currents of air.

She missed feeling. She was so tired of the sea and nothing but the sea, despite its relentless call to her soul. Chloe was so _so_ tired of it rolling inside her. Tired of being pulled and pushed by the tide.

Like when she was with her friends and the tide was low and _she was sorry but she just had to leave_, the sea was calling –not that she ever said that.

Or when she wanted to be alone and the tide was high and her friends were busy and _she was sorry but she wanted some company_ –even if that's the last thing she wanted.

The sea was restless and it made her want to cry.

She missed feeling. She missed the touch of a hand on her shoulder, or the feeling of the sun on her face; a kiss on her lips… But she couldn't feel any of those things anymore, just the sea breeze that lifted the water and the little rivulets as they ran back to their origin and the currents of cold and warm tides when they crashed in the depths of the ocean far away.

A hundred thousand miles away and still the only thing she'd be able to feel would be the sea.

The water called to her, but she didn't move. She was used to the pull and so close to the shore she could handle the need to return a little better.

A powerful gush of wind whipped against her face and ruffled her red strands of hair and seashell white dress; it felt like anger.

Rangar.

She shuddered in fear. Chloe could feel him in the air, in the pestilent smell of the sea, always watching even though she was his eyes. A presence so near her it made her skin crawl like nothing else could.

A wind carried the sea and cold droplets of water stung against her face, arms and legs. She desperately stumbled back in an effort to save herself from the crystalline liquid, but it was of no use.

Her pretty skin, healthy and pink, peeled away like old paint, revealing her gray insides like the sky, her black patches of putrid flesh like on Paradise's sea. She wanted to cry just a little bit more as her earthly mirage faded away completely.

If she was a normal girl she could've gone to her friends and pled for comfort, but she wasn't normal, she was ugly and rotten, and a _liar_. Even if they couldn't see it, her insides were dead. She was dead.

She stumbled forward, resigned now that the water had found her. It was her own damned fault anyway, for standing so close to the sea. Her knees bent and she fell on the sand.

Chloe pressed her hands against the wet grains and felt them rough against her flesh; she almost relished in the slight feeling of pain. The waves returned and touched her: her hands, her knees, the shins and thighs and feet.

Her skin skin decayed even more and her dress ripped away bit by bit. When the water left she was just a corpse of a girl.

She looked up at the angry sea and wished she wasn't as rotten and sick as it. She wished Rangar would just end her miserable existence once and for all. If he destroyed her, she could rest at last. Even if he tortured her for the rest of eternity she would be grateful, her mind would know more peace than now. At least then the weight of her actions wouldn't drown her. _Again_. She'd done enough drowning for one lifetime; she was tired.

She trembled with the waves, but not with anger- with dread.

Chloe stood up and backed away from the lapping waves looking longingly at the water. She had to find a place to hide and let her glamour return at it's own time, she dreaded what Rangar would do if he found out she had exposed herself so carelessly.

She waked into the palm trees without looking back as she tried to forget about the sea for a while longer. She scratched her arms as the waves itched just under her skin, calling at her, rolling and rumbling like the storm to come.

**Abril: Another lyric challenge between **_**Shadow-ying**_** and me, this time we choose lyrics from Hozier, which I love with all my heart so it made my day.**

**So… I made this story for an inexistent fandom for what I've seen. Like, nothing at all, not a single gif or fic or comment I've seen of this bbc series. It's so very confusing and it makes me feel like I somehow imagined it? **

**Anyway, I think this turned out very good and even if you haven't seen it, it's a good read (in my opinion hehe). **


End file.
